For Want of a Good Accessory
by LadyDivine91
Summary: The second Blaine walks through the door, he's accosted by his husband, who's been waiting eagerly for him to come home to introduce him to his latest acquisition. Klaine. Kurt H. Blaine A.


_**Notes:** **Written for the Klaine Advent day one prompt - attachment. Warning for minor D/s overtones - nothing in your face.**_

"Hey, Kurt! I'm ho-"

Blaine makes it a grand total of four steps into their loft before Kurt ambushes him - lips on his lips, devouring the last syllable hanging from his tongue; hands on his shoulders grabbing, kneading, maneuvering him backwards towards the nearest wall; body against his, urgent, demanding, possessive, pinning him in place. Kurt forces him onto his tip toes and kisses him hard, knocking the breath from his lungs and siphoning it through his lips, inhaling every last inch of it till there's nothing left for Blaine to breathe but Kurt.

When Blaine finally comes to his senses, drops his bag on the floor and wraps his arms around his husband's torso, Kurt backs away to survey his handiwork (which he can feel through the fabric of his husband's slacks). And as impressive as it is – being able to make Blaine go from flaccid to throbbing in no time flat – it's the shimmer in his eyes; his parted, swollen lips; his expression of lust/love/need that Kurt wants to see.

"Wh- … what was that for?" Blaine whispers, his voice unable to rise any higher with his heart racing and his knees weak.

"Because I love you," Kurt answers, and even though it's a complete sentence, a finished thought with a period at the end, it comes across as cryptic, something underneath left unsaid. "Because I missed you."

"Oh," Blaine says, willing to conceive that that's all and go back to making out with his husband, right there against the entryway wall, three feet from their open front door. "That's … that's ni-"

"I got a package today."

Those five, seemingly innocent words, make Blaine gulp hard. It's not the words, per se, but the way Kurt says them, and the fact that he's not letting Blaine finish a sentence. He's throwing Blaine off on purpose.

Keeping him (quite literally still) on his toes.

"Really?"

"A-ha." Kurt's lips skim the air just above Blaine's cheek, bouncing deftly away the moment Blaine's chase his mouth. "I saw it online a few weeks ago, and I just had to have it."

"Okay," Blaine murmurs, voice stolen when Kurt's lips brush the pulse point below his jaw. "Well … don't keep me in suspense. What is it?"

Kurt's muted chuckle dances across the sensitive skin of Blaine's neck, the vibrations shooting south as fiercely as if Kurt had slid his fingers there. "It's on the kitchen table."

Blaine hadn't been all too concerned with their loft, ready to submit to whatever sexual activity Kurt had planned for them that didn't require them journeying too far from where they stood now, so he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Had there been a room full of their closest friends and family behind them, clowns (which Blaine happens to be terrified of), or a hungry Bengal tiger, Blaine wouldn't have noticed, not with Kurt rutting softly against him. But as he peeks over Kurt's shoulder to do as he's told, he doesn't see how he could have missed it - a rectangular box, long and thick and fire engine red, with the words P-Spot Annihilator printed along the side in block yellow font so bright, it seems to scream at him.

The name strikes him as funny. It's a ludicrous name, to be honest. But then again, most sex toys have crude names. If Blaine had seen it while casually perusing the internet, he would have giggled.

But seeing it on his kitchen table, completely monopolizing the spot where he eats his meals every day, make his trembling knees turn to useless rubber.

"I'm … uh … assuming that's a vibrator," he says, his voice hitching on the word vibrator.

"That it is," Kurt says with a bizarre tone of pride.

"That's … that's a huge box for a vibrator," Blaine says, the laugh those words choke around curious and nervous, excited and eager.

"True," Kurt agrees, a smile curling his lips that makes the soles of Blaine's feet sweat inside his loafers. "And from what it says on the website, there shouldn't be much negative space inside."

"Oh," Blaine squeaks, suddenly envisioning a flaming-red vibrator, roughly around the size of a standard two-by-four, raring and ready to go, making its way straight towards his ass. "And … and h-how is this one different from our other vibrators?"

"Well, aside from the size … and the horsepower …." Kurt smiles wider at the way Blaine squirms as he answers his question "… this one comes with attachments."


End file.
